Error 404
by SolsticeBorn
Summary: Years after her parents passed and left her with a healthy inheritance, Sappho has become a shut in. Getting her social interaction from the internet, and silently admiring her mysterious neighbor. Until one early morning, she runs into him (literally), forcing her to converse. Elliot&OC
1. Sharing Cigarettes

Hello. It's been along time since I've written a fanfition, so bare with me. Here you are!

Sincerely, SolsticeBorn

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 **Error 404**

 **Chapter 1 - Sharing Cigarettes**

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Three AM.

Here I am again, staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling of my shitty apartment. The sounds of city sirens fill my studio. Do I even know what sleep is anymore?

I smell the leftover burning plastic from my neighbor across the hall. This happens every so often, I sometimes wonder if he is cooking meth in there. I wouldn't be surprised, the way his blue eyes bulge out just a bit, and his slender frame. No, that couldn't be. Also, he hardly visitors, besides the girl that stops by a few times a month... shit maybe that is his dealer. How judgmental of me. He seems like a nice guy, I should actually talk to him sometime. How beautifully mysterious he is, always hiding in that generic black hoodie.

Stop it, Sappho, your mind is wondering again... I attempt to shake him out of my thoughts and roll over, closing my eyes, in attempt to sleep.

My mind brings me to that awkward stare he sends when he passes by me in the hall. His eyes are so deep, depressed, and innocent; but something hides within them that I can't help being curious about. If only I could gain the courage to just say hello. Unfortunately, my social anxiety really likes to just keep me at home, doodling his face and painting my sorrows on cheap canvas. What a life; no job, living in a suck-ass apartment just so I can stretch out that inheritance from my dead parents, and maybe one real friend to call my own. Though, Steven is a sassy gay man, who really knows how to piss me off, but he is always knows how to get me out of the studio.

Social media has been my only way to connect with "people", which is laughable. Posting pictures of my eccentric makeup, vegan food, and my next crazy hair color just to see if my followers will comment. A false comfort. Social media, the one place I haven't been able to find my neighbor. I know his name, Elliot Alderson, from which I caught a glance at when he was retrieving his mail. I'm starting to feel a bit crazy, as if I'm desperately stalking him. Is that what I have become? Creating scenarios in my head of us getting a drink together, having a cigarette on the stoop, and even kissing those full lips... Yes, I'm going mad.

My eyes slowly open.

"I'm not getting any more sleep," I speak to the silence in my room as I sit up in my memory foam bed; black, Egyptian cotton sheets slide off me. At least it feels like a nice apartment on the inside. I swing my Legs over the left side of my bed, and reach for the pack of cigarettes I left on my nightstand, open them and peer in.

"Well, fuck." I chuckle to myself. I need a fucking cigarette. Pacing over to my dresser, I pull out some black leggings, a plain black bra, and an oversized lavender tank with the words for "fuck off" stamped on it in Japanese. This will work. Casually, I throw my NIN tee on the bed and roughly slip on the offensive clothing, bra obviously showing on all sides of my tank.

"Whatever." I sigh, as I grab my wallet, slip on my black combat boots, and a fitted black hoodie, then drag my feet out the door, slowly moving past Elliot's room. Silence; sometimes I hear faint sobbing, it makes me feel like I'm not so alone.

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"Camel Turkish Silver." I manage to suggest to the cashier, my eyes fixed on the counter. I hear him grab the box and the scanner beep.

"It's a bit late for a girl like you to be out. You be safe out there." He smiles at me as I lift my head cautiously. I smile back, and hand him my card. I grab the pact off the counter, not forgetting to grab my card back from him and head out the door.

"That was enough social interaction for one night." I whisper, lighting the cigarette in my hand. Ah, finally. I stare right back at my feet and continue to head "home".

"Shit!" I exclaim as I ram right into a chiseled chest. "I'm so sorry..." I look up... it's him. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! His face is filled with shock, but suddenly it softens.

"It's okay," he replies awkwardly. We stare at each other for a moment. Simultaneously, we look up and see our apartment. This is going to be an uncomfortable walk back up the stairs. This is your chance, Sappho! I light up another cigarette and plop down on the concrete steps.

"Um, I don't know if you smoke, but would you like one?" I offer. Great, what if he doesn't?

"Sure," he answers plainly, as I hand him one. I flick my lighter and hold it towards him; he accepts, leans towards me and pulls a drag from the flame. So close, my heart begins to race. Stop it! Just breathe.

"You live just down the hall to me," He says attempting to engage conversation, as he sits down beside me. My heart begins pounding in my ears. Has is really been that long, Sappho?

"Uh...ye-yeah," I stammer. Smooth, Sappho, smooth. I can smell his spicy body spray, which is strangely calming. I manage to compose myself enough to look up at him. He's so focused on me, as if I'm a new specimen to study. "I'm Sappho."

"I'm Elliot," he introduces himself, managing an uncomfortable half smile, blue eyes still fixed on mine. Turning away quickly, I take another long puff off my cancer stick. Silence once again. Well this is going great. Two socially awkward people trying to converse, laughable. I could really use a drink right now; there is a bottle of rum waiting for me upstairs. Should I invite him? No, that would be weird; we've only just introduced ourselves. If it gets weird his room is only down the hall, he could just leave. What if, it does end up weird and we don't talk anymore? What if, it doesn't? What if... oh, fuck it!

"Hey, I know we have only just met; well introduced ourselves, and I know it's like five in the morning," I hesitate; those eyes are staring so intently, "So it's cool if you say no, but would you mind joining me for a shot of rum?"

Silence. He looks at the ground only to exhale the last bit of smoke in his lungs. My heart sinks; and I can feel my loneliness sinking in once again. I don't want to spend another night crying myself to sleep. I stand up abruptly and head towards the door. "That was a silly question, I'm sorry I-"

I feel him behind me. "No. It's okay, I'll join you."


	2. I Cant Feel My Face

Welcome back, my lovelies. I have a disclaimer. I use a few lyrics from the song "I Can't Feel My Face - The Weeknd". I (of course) do not have any rights to this song and give full credit to the Weeknd. That is all.

Also, I hope you enjoy my OC, Sappho. She is an... interesting character.

Enjoy! SolsticeBorn

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 **Error 404**

 **Chapter 2 - I Can't Feel My Face**

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Sappho shuts the door behind us, and proceeds to walk straight to the kitchen.

I already know all about her, hacking her Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, email, whatever I could find. Sappho Mikal Crow; 5'8", hazel eyes, born December 19th, is 28 years of age, unemployed, identifies as bisexual, single. Single ever since her parents died in a car accident 3 years ago. She has many followers on her social media accounts; uploading mostly her art work, and poems. She seems to be a slave to it, as if it where her only friends. That is, besides Steven, a flamboyant male I see on her Facebook once in a while. Her art and poems have always intrigued me, I find myself viewing them a lot. She expresses herself so openly to the faceless company of the internet. Her fears, her sadness, her loneness and her love. I envy her ability to do so; another part of me wants to safe her.

Seeing her apartment is new information. Half painted canvas leaning against the walls, sketches pinned up all around, but the decorations and furniture seemed to be a strange fit in this rundown apartment. All very high quality, mostly likely brought with her inheritance, but it was all simple and more for function. The decorations really interested me, I could tell she did them all herself, which was a mixture of Goth and eclectic. Everything reflected what she presented on social media; she seemed to be a straight forward person. Honest, unlike myself.

"Sorry about the mess," She startled me, as she hands me a shot glass filled with dark rum. Before I could reply she speaks again. "Bottoms up!"

I quickly copy her movements, as we both let the black liquid burn down our throats. I stare at her for a moment, her eyes seem to be holding something back; they are so intoxicating. As she heads back to the kitchen; I can't help but stare at her backside as I bite my lip. She was beautiful, the messy short hair (which was teal this month), the curves of her body, the way her loose tank fell over her breasts, the black bra exposing itself everywhere, and her long legs.

"Another?" She questions. Shit, Elliot, you haven't said anything this whole time. She turns around and motions me to the table.

"Yeah, sure," I finally speak. I remove my hood and sit down across from her.

"So…" she starts while filling our empty shot glasses. "I'm not good at small talk, but I'm going to give it a try. What do you do, Elliot?"

She pushes the shot glass across the table to me, and I swallow it down to help loosen up.

"I'm a tech at Allsafe." She looks at me dissatisfied and proceeds to take down her shot with grace.

"Allsafe, huh? One of Evil Corps monkeys." She laughs rudely. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at social interaction."

I let a smile creep on my face. I like her; I feel she gets it, but what do I know. Social queues were never my strong suit.

"It's fine. I find it funny." I hear myself say. I look up at her as she fills my glass once again. So beautiful, just so damaged. She attempts to read me, but accepts defeat by swallowing down another shot, I mimic her.

"So," She starts, eyes fixed on me as I see them look me up and down. "Do you have any hobbies?"

Hobbies. Snorting morphine, hacking people, saving the world from the 1% of the 1%, but I couldn't tell her that. I would have to lie, though for some reason, that seemed difficult. I couldn't think of anything while looking into those eyes, like she could she through my bullshit. I look at my empty glass, feeling warmth rise in my gut. She fills up my glass, as if reading my mind.

"Not really, I guess. I like computers." I answer as if I'm on auto-pilot. Her giggle rings in my ears, like it's teasing me. I gulp down the 4th shot, with ease, and look up at her curious expression.

"Computers, hm." She gives me a racy grin. "I'm an artist myself, as you can see. You should let me draw you sometime." She licks her lips, so sexy. Shit. I look back down at the glass in front of me, feeling the warmth in my gut fill my body. The rum is working.

"I'm sorry; I think the rum is working." She giggles again. My head shoots up, looking at her confused. It's like she hacked my mind. Her expression is flirtatious, and her cheeks are beginning to blush. She abruptly stands from the table, and heads over to her stereo. "Sorry, neighbors, but Sappho is drunk and needs some music."

Sound comes from the speakers.

 _She told me, "Don't worry about_ _it." She told me, "Don't worry no more"_

"I love this song!" She begins to sway her hips hypnotically, and I can't help but gawk wildly.

 _We both know we can't go without it_ _._ _She told me you'll never…_

She slides over to me, pulls me from my chair, and begins pressing her backside into my pelvis so hungrily. I'm still, unsure of how to take this, but I find myself reaching for her hips. She is so soft, yet powerful.

… _be alone, oh, oh, woo!_

Her hand creeps up behind my neck, as she presses her back against my chest. She whispers to me, "I hope this okay…"

 _I can't feel my face when I'm with you…_

I'm confused. I don't know why her touching me isn't bothering me as it does when others try. Maybe it's nice not having to try so hard to fake affection; maybe it's nice not feeling alone. My arms wrap around her small waist, pulling her in tighter. I can feel her heart quicken and her breath become short. I can smell cinnamon and vanilla on her skin, coconut in her hair. I can hear the early morning rain begin to pound on the windows.

… _but I love it, but I love it._

This feels like morphine.

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Sorry for these chapters being so short. I like it that way. You see, I'm a terrible procrastinator, so having smaller goals help me complete things faster. I will try to update every 3 - 7 days.

Love, SolsticeBorn


	3. Short Circuit

Hello my lovelies, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Things get a bit hot, just to let you guys know.

Love, SolsticeBorn

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 **Error 404**

 **Chapter 3 - Short Circuit**

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I can feel him pull me tighter, and my mind flies into the gray clouds outside. The chemistry between us us intoxicating. I can't help but think, is this real? The strange neighbor who seem to avoid any human contact what so ever, is pulling me tighter. Even though, we had formally introduced ourselves only an hour ago, and hardly know anything about each other. Pull away Sappho! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? What if...

I feel his breath brush the side of my neck. Fuck. Images of my late mother flash in my head, scolding me with her eyes, and my late father crossing his arms. I can hear them.

 _Sappho! We didn't pay for you to go to art school in NYC so you can run off with some weird man you just met!_ Mother.  
 _You have disappointed me, young lady!_ Father.

Elliot's lips gently rest on my neck, trembling against my skin. Was he afraid to press them against me? Did he want to kiss me, or did he feel pressed because of my forwardness. What if...

I feel his tongue wet my neck, before his full lips press softly against my pulsating throat. I can feel my body run hot, my skin crawl. Fuck. I haven't felt touch like this from another person since before my parents died. Fuck, fuck! I feel tears well in my eyes. Don't you dare cry! A heavy tear runs down my face, I can feel it trace my cheeks and down to my neck, and land on Elliot's jaw. Damnit!

He pulls away immediately, saying nothing as I turn to face him, wiping the tear from my cheek. You're so fucking broken! Shock and concern fill his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

"I'm sorry Elliot, I didn't mean to... Fuck!" I can feel myself loose confidence. I swing myself to the table where the bottle of rum rests, I take a big swig before letting my arm drop the bottle on the table with a heavy thud.

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Elliot POV

Her hand rest on the table, each one on either side of the bottle. Did I do something wrong? What was happening? Why did I do that? I fucked up again.

I see a tear hit the table.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this." she whispers, tears fill her olive eyes. "Great, I've only just met you and I'm already crying. How pathetic."

I know this feeling. She is upset from something else. I scan my memory from her blog, trying to remember a recent note she posted. Maybe that will help me understand.

 _Mother, Father why did you have to leave so soon?_  
 _I need you now more then ever._  
 _It's been 3 years, and I still feel the sting of loneliness._  
 _I wish I could have someone to hold again._  
 _Someone to help distract me from my distress._  
 _Anyone..._  
 _Love, Sappho_

She craves what I do; to fight the loneliness inside. I mask it with morphine. She seems to just suffer with it. How does she? I want to help, but I don't know what to say to comfort her. Lie Elliot...

"Did I do something wrong?" I feel the words drift from my mouth. She lifts her head, and forms a weak smile underneath the water flowing from her eyes.

"No," she breaths, "I'm just a mess. I shouldn't have even invited you."

She turns away to face the window, hiding herself from me. I want to help. Feeling myself begin to drift toward her, I rest a hand on her shoulder, in an attempt to comfort her. She twists her head toward me, the tears have stopped. "You can leave if you want to. I would understand."

"I don't want to." I mutter. I move myself to disrupt her view, and her eyes lock on me. I wish I could read her expression, but It looks like hope, or fright. I take my chances and awkwardly wrap my arms around her waist. She becomes very stiff; I hear a quickly inhale, and her heart begin to pound on my chest. Shit. Maybe I choose wrong...

She lets out a small sigh, and slides her arms around my hips. She surrenders to my embrace. This feels right.

"Thank you, Elliot," She softly speaks into my ear. Her voice is sends shivers through my body, forcing me to look at her. She lifts her head, almost like we were synced. Her pouting lips tempt me, as her eyes jump back and forth between mine. I lift a hand up to her lightly wet face, brushing away the residue, then running my fingers through her feather-like teal hair. She gave me the feeling morphine did; light headed, and lifted from my mind. I want to kiss her, but would that be wrong? I feel like I already know her, but I know this isn't entirely true. I see myself inching toward her lips, her lips part. I lay my forehand against hers. Shit, what are you doing?!

Her breath becomes short again, like it had before. She grabs at my hips, pulling me into her pelvis. Fuck. I can feel how hot she is against me. It feels like my body is short circuiting; I'm loosing control. I have to, need to, kiss her. My eyes close, fear hiding behind my eyelids, as I caress my lips against hers. Her body falls into me, as electricity shoots through us, like a virus infecting each-other.

I've lost control. Feeling myself lift her on the table, as she moans into my mouth and wrapping her legs around me. I roughly grind myself into her, she releases from my lips to let out a heavy moan of relief. She grips the back of my neck to press a heavy kiss on my eager lips, her tongue tracing mine. I feel high, pressing the hard piece in my jeans against her once again. Her head rolls back, moaning out my name. I feel powerful.

One of her hands lands on the table, slips, and her back lands with a thud. I see the rum slide to the edge of the table, then a loud crash, and it shatters all over the floor. Her eyes shoot open, and she promptly sits up from the table.

"Shit!" She shouts, letting out a laugh. "I suppose that's the stars telling us to stop."

She looks at me embarrass. I was unsure of what had just happened, but I knew I didn't want it to stop. She presses past me and races to her towels, carefully patting up the excess rum that had leaked all over the floor, and picking up the broken pieces. She looks up at me, and smirks, then looks at my groin which was uncomfortably pressing against my jeans. I place my hands in my pockets and pull down on my hoodie, which is pointless.

"Sorry to leave you hanging," she teases, standing up with the rum mess all gathered in a towel. She turns to dump it into the trash, before returning to me. "It's 6am, we should both get some sleep."

She was right, though, sleep wasn't going to happen. I needed to work over what had happened.

Was it the rum? Was it my imagination? Was it real?

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Phew! Well, there is something between these two. If it's not the mutual loneliness, or the socially awkward encounter, I don't know! Thank you for the Reviews!

Love, SolsticeBorn


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